


Valar, I need a memory wipe

by hauntedpoem



Series: Say hello to your new boyfriend [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Dildos, Father-Son Relationship, Good Parent Thranduil, Humour, Masturbation, Other, highschool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7830904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedpoem/pseuds/hauntedpoem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archery practice is postponed, Legolas comes home earlier than expected. What he sees... Well... He can't unsee it now XD</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valar, I need a memory wipe

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an innocent accidental voyeur fic. I have some ideas for a sequel or a multi-chaptered fic but seeing how I've written this on my phone just for lulz (and I am posting this from my phone)... I don't know when will that happen.  
> Just so you know, my intention is to pair Thranduil with someone. There will be no Thrandolas.  
> This is just to test the waters.  
> ;)  
> Enjoy!

As minutes went by, he grew more and more impatient. Legolas has been waiting for almost half an hour on the wooden bench, his equipment ready, his arm braces in place, his long wheat blond hair neatly braided.

His archery teacher was late. He took out his phone and checked the time again. 15:37 already. He was 37 minutes late.

Bard Bowman was never late. In all his seven years of professional archery lessons, the man was on time. He never turned Legolas down, not when he'd realised he was a natural and he had all the chances to compete next year in the Olympics. After a while, his impatience was replaced with all sorts of scenarios and Legolas grew anxious. No wonder he was always told he had quite the overactive imagination.

So Legolas was a bit relieved when his teacher sent him a text message, belatedly so.

_Legolas, I'm sorry. I should have called you earlier to cancel our lesson. Bain is in the hospital with a concussion. Football practice. He's fine now. Maybe this will make him get into a less conflictual sport, such as archery. A father can only hope. :( See you tomorrow. Really sorry, B.Bowman_

Legolas frowned. Then smiled. Poor Bard. Poor Bain. He knew Bain was pretty hot-headed and impulsive. Archery was not for him.  
He replied back.

 _Ouch! Poor Bain! About the archery, it's fine, Mr Bowman. I am heading home now. History test tomorrow. Have to study. Procrastination doesn't suit me, you were right._ _I wish your son a swift recovery! Send him my regards!_

Several minutes later, his teacher's reply came into his inbox.

_Hope you didn't worry too much. I would hate myself. Go home and study hard! Show them what you're made of! You're Greenwood's champion._

_:) B. Bowman_

This made Legolas smile inward as he picked up his heavy gear and his already full backpack and headed for the bus.

_Thank you, Mr Bowman. I just have a great teacher._

  
It took him almost an hour to reach his home. It was a mansion surrounded by a forest and a river close by. Although it was once called Greenwood, some nasty species of spiders seemed to have attacked the trees and the greenery around it. The trees didn't look their best and that also reflected on the name the estate got from their neighbours. They called it Mirkwood.

It upset his father to no end, especially since he invested so much into the health of those trees. The estate had been designed by his late grandfather, Oropher. He had been one of the most influential landscape designers and his son, Thranduil, in order to honour his father's lifetime work, decided to become an architect and recreate the North-Eastern cities of Arda.  
Their house was magnificent. A perfect structure where traditional and modern influences coexisted.

His father's car was nowhere to be seen and Legolas simply assumed he was back for a while at his central office to immerse himself in his work.

  
He felt a bit miffed at the prospect of spending the rest of the day studying but when he remembered how delighted his father was when Legolas got one of the nine available scholarships at the prestigious Imladris school, he straightened his slumped shoulders and his motivation returned full speed.

Now, he just wanted to go back to his room and finish reading those study files that Gimli photocopied for him. Aragorn would be too busy texting his girlfriend, Arwen and the twins were too noisy and distracting to join him for studying.  
He quietly opened the fridge, took out some sandwiches and the orange juice and headed slowly to his room.

Ten minutes later, he's devoured the hummus and salad sandwiches and spread those damned papers on his bed, trying to make sense of Gimli's notes. Of course, Gimli had to write almost everything in pencil and Legolas frowned as he tried to distinguish the pale grey handwriting, which was otherwise exquisitely artistic.

  
Much annoyed with his lack of progress, he gulped the orange juice and left his room to get more food and ruin his appetite for when his father would return and prepare dinner for both of them.

He was turning into a bit of a glutton lately. However, Legolas blamed the intensive archery training for his strong appetite.

  
Back to the pristine kitchen, he found the peanut butter jar and without bothering much, he just extracted a spoon from a drawer and headed back.

  
However, on his way to the second set of stairs, he heard the strangest noise. With the heavy jar in his hand and spoon already in his mouth, Legolas pricked up his ears and followed the direction of the sound.

It was a low, buzzing hum, a barely noticeable vibration. Turning on a whim towards the East Wing and following the sound, he arrived in front of the door leading to his father's suite of rooms.

The noise intensified. He could hear small whimpers and barely contained moans. Truly worried at the continuous stream of keening sounds, he carefully opened the door and braced himself to face an intruder, or... His own father in some sort of predicament. At this point, Legolas didn't know which was worse. The mere thought of his father in danger, heavily injured, did something awful to Legolas' reasoning abilities.

It surely sounded that way, he would tell himself later, defensively.

  
As he used the spoon as a potential weapon to defend himself, Legolas walked stealthily through the suite, finally reaching his father's bedroom.

  
Of course, now if he could, he would have stopped himself. But in that moment, Legolas had been too frightened and anxious to think rationally. He was in flight or fight mode.

  
Unfortunately, the door was not closed.

He peeked inside like a ninja. Who said he wasn't a good scout? He could best Gimli or Aragorn any day. But this wasn't the point.  
Anyway... What he saw, only shocked him. It scarred him for life. It could have been worse.

  
He wished he had contacted the twins and went to their place instead.

He wished for many things, especially for peanut butter caramel to not be so addictive.

He wished Gimli would just photograph his neatly written school notes, instead of bothering to make copies for Legolas to scrawl over and highlight in aquamarine text marker while pulling an all-nighter.

He wished Bain had never chosen a contact sport and that a ball had never collided with his head.

He wished for Bard to have picked him up from the archery grounds and taken him to the hospital to check together on an injured Bain. That would have been better.

He would have bought Bain a basket full of meat pies. And Nutella. From his savings.

  
He never wished to see his father with three fingers down his throat, blindfolded and a purple glittery dildo vibrating in his ass.

Not to mention two purple cock rings.

And glistening lube painted on his ass cheeks and his trembling thighs.

  
_Just no! Not this!_

Legolas just knew that he wouldn't be able to look his father in the eyes. Not when his own father was producing the filthiest sounds as one of his hands was undoing the cock rings, then proceeded to stroke his erection until milky hot semen splattered on his well-toned abdomen.

  
It had been a miracle that all this time Legolas held his precious peanut butter jar and the offensive drooly spoon close to his chest and didn't just drop them and ran screaming.

**Author's Note:**

> My first intention was to write a fic in which Legolas, after witnessing the above mentioned scene, discovers his life's vocation: matchmaker extraordinaire for his single, workaholic father. Not because he feels sorry for him, but because Thranduil is the best parent in the world (with the exception of the times he's not locking the door to his bedroom while alleviating his.... Erm... Loneliness).  
> Comments and suggestions for this fic are more than welcome!  
> -  
> I have come up with some visuals for this vignette:  
> here's Thranduil's [house](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/dc/87/27/dc8727d4c16b4c060329d8b374535e23.jpg) and [ bedroom](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/fc/32/5b/fc325b4a861f076b6458acd7eb5f6520.jpg)... also... [some stairs](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/0b/0e/07/0b0e075a75350c093afbd2c9a2b46a6b.jpg).  
> ~~~~~*~~~~~  
> this fic is sort of a tribute to all the Thrandolas out there. Yep, I am guilty of reading thrandolas and enjoying it :P  
> There is some great Thrandolas out there :) here's what inspired me: [Pippychick's and TAFKAB's "Prince in training"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6515266/chapters/14908261)


End file.
